


Tangibility And Belief

by chemicalcandy



Series: Let me make you happy [2]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Blood, Death, Dom/sub, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mindfuck, Rape, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-15 15:20:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7227763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemicalcandy/pseuds/chemicalcandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Guilt started to creep through his veins as his heart started to pound even quicker, his vision went blurry and he breathed heavily as he scratched his neck with some oddly well manicured finger nails whilst scanning his brain for the awful act that caused this feeling. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was too much. He wanted to bleed. Gerard needed to see blood, to taste and feel it. God he needed to know what he had done. Blood and guilt. Blood and guilt. Guilt for something he didn't remember. <br/>He kept scratching and digging his blunt nails into his flesh until he finally managed to draw blood. The liquid was viscous, and most importantly of all not nearly enough for Gerard. Hungrily he licked the poor amount of blood from his fingers and decided he needed more, and not from himself. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Frank. </em>
</p><p></p><div class="center">
  <p>________________________________________________</p>
</div><p>Sequel to my "Let me make you happy" story:)<br/>Go read that first by clicking <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6978853/chapters/15905554">here</a>, you won't understand any of this if you don't know the antecedents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. September 2007

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone ^-^
> 
> Soo after a very boring school trip I'm back with some new stuff! I managed to be very productive and write a few more chapters to continue the story (Thank you so much for all those nice comments and encouragements!)
> 
> I didn't expect to be able to update it already, but since the trip offered lots of time to think about and write it - why should I keep it to myself? Most of it was written during several train journeys which kind of made me feel like JK Rowling. Okay, maybe she wrote a beautiful, magical and generally amazing story a lot less weird and psychotic than the thing you are about to read now, but well. We both were on a train. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading, let me know what you think! I haven't finished the whole sequel yet (it'll be a couple of chapters long), also I'm not sure what exactly is going to happen so I can't specify my warnings, but you really should pay attention to the tags and expect lots of weird/kinky/sick shit. 
> 
> If that doesn't bother you, I have nothing more to say than have fun!

He silently stared down at the tombstone to his feet. _In loving memory of Frank Iero. October 31 1981 - August 29 2007_. They had decided to date his death the day they found his body because the actual time of death was unknown. Below that _In God's care now_ was written in the stone. As Mikey had found out when meeting them three weeks ago at the funeral, Frank's parents were deeply religious. 

Mikey hadn't wanted to go to the funeral, and it wasn't until the morning of the event that he changed his mind and attended it. He didn't feel worthy of it at first - His brother was to blame for this kid's death. He didn't feel able to look into his family members' hurt faces, didn't want to see the pain Gerard had caused. But then again he felt like he wanted to pay his last respect to Frank. Not going to the funeral would make Mikey a coward.

As expected, the whole thing was horrible. Frank's mother, a woman in her early 50s maybe, cried the whole time, and nothing and no one could put her mind at ease. Mikey understood. If that would have been his son's funeral, he'd done exactly the same. Then, when Frank got buried, she even started to scream in pain, loudly and awfully, making Mikey shiver. He felt so guilty, so fucking guilty. By now he had accepted that the whole misery was not only Gerard's fault but also his - Mikey couldn't help but wonder if it had happened if he had spent more time with his brother. Although he was the younger one, Mikey couldn't help but feel like he had failed miserably. He had neglected the relation to Gerard, implying him to even be able to reduce his state to what it was now. Mikey should have paid more attention. He should have noticed something was wrong with Gerard way earlier. Mikey might have been able to avoid him kidnapping and killing Frank. But Mikey had done nothing at all...

During Frank's mother's cries and yells, a man came towards her and enfolded her in his arms. Frank's dad, Mikey assumed. Frank's father hugged her tightly and whispered what Mikey guessed were calming words in hear ear, crying the whole time himself. 

Mrs Iero's cries seemed to be a kind of permission for everyone else to cry as well. Nobody tried holding back their tears. Everybody cried - everybody except for Mikey. Mikey wanted to cry, he honestly did and he was truly sad about Frank's death. But then, it was his _brother_ who had killed him. Mikey couldn't cry because it was his fault Frank died in the first place. 

When Frank's coffin and body were buried six feet under, everyone slowly started to walk away after a while. Everyone except for Frank's parents. His mum knelt by the grave, whining and breathing heavily. Mikey thought she would faint if she didn't calm soon. The poor woman. God, Mikey wished he could have prevented her from having to endure that. The priest knelt beside her, putting a hand on her shoulder reassuringly, and talked in a low voice about how God now looked after her soon, and they would be reunited some day. 

Mikey only noticed he too hadn't left when Frank's father approached him with a grieving, yet angry facial expression. He regretted not walking away, he really didn't want to talk to him. But honestly, he hadn't even realized that it would have been a lot better to just leave with the other funeral guests, hadn't realized he was the only one left staring at the grave, and that it wasn't exactly appropriate to stay there any longer if he wasn't close family - he could barely think a straight thought recently. 

"What are you doing here, boy?" Frank's dad had asked. His voice was broken and hoarse, making Mikey even more remorseful. 

"I-I'm so sorry. Fuck, I'm sorry," was all Mikey could utter before he felt the tears winning the inner fight and rolling down his cheeks. 

"You're sorry?" Frank's dad asked, suspicious. "So am I correct assuming you know the guy who...?"

Mikey nodded numbly. "I do. It's my brother, sir. My damn brother... I'm so sorry." 

He expected him to yell, insult him and his family, but at Mikey's words the broken man's face seemed to haggard in exhaustion. "Your brother. God..." He looked at the sky as if searching for help, and Mikey could see his eyes getting wet again. It took several minutes before he could speak again. "May God help him. May God take care of his soul." 

"Thank you, sir," Mikey had said, astonished. Frank's father was a man of great strength if he could say something like that, and it looked like he meant it. "Thank you."

"Tell me, what has happened to him? To your brother, I mean. Where is he now?"

"He is in a mental hospital. They're trying to recover him."

He nodded, thinking. "Mental hospital. Sounds appropriate... Anyway, I better get going. I wish you and your brother all the best, son."

"Thank you sir, you too. Again, I'm so sorry-"

" _Your brother_ did that?!" a raucous voice suddenly interrupted him. Mikey looked around in horror to see that Frank's mother had got to her feet again - the priest was nowhere to be seen - and now stared at Mikey, raging. "Your brother is the psychopath who killed my son, and you _dare_ to show up here?!"

"I-"

Mrs Iero had started to run towards Mikey, anger distorting her other than that pretty face. Mikey didn't even want to avoid her anger, he knew he'd deserved it.  
   
"Linda-" Frank's dad started, but Mrs Iero wasn't having any of it. 

"You shut your mouth, Frank!" She halted in front of Mikey, whole body trembling. "You- you are here at my son's funeral after your brother killed him?! Have they told you what he did to my Frankie? Have they told you they found his arm cut open, and remnants of strong drugs in his system? Have they told you he _raped_ him?!"

"They-"

"Have they told you he's fucking out of his mind?!"

"Linda!" Mr Iero tried again, obviously shocked by hearing her use a swear word.   
The woman just shook her head, angrily. "Shut up. Shut the fuck up. Fuck. Fucking shit!" She now grabbed Mikey by his shoulders, shaking him. "Your brother is a psychopath who deserves it to die. He needs to fucking die, you hear me? I want him dead!"

"Mrs Iero, please-" Mikey begged, dull sobs now escaping his throat. 

"He needs to be tortured and killed, just like he did to my son! He fucking deserves it!"

"I'm so fucking sorry-" Mikey whined, staring into her reddened, exhausted eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what was going on inside him. I wish I would have known, I wish I could have helped your son. I'm so sorry this happened."

She breathed shakily, another wave of crying approaching. For half a minute they just looked at each other like that, Mrs Iero's fingernails digging painfully into Mikey's shoulders. When she spoke again, her voice had lost all strength and was barely more than a whisper. "Do you know we had a fight before it happened? We didn't talk to each other for months. I won't ever be able to apologize. I'll never know if he forgave me. I-" The tears were back at and instant, so heavily she sunk to her knees again. Frank's father knelt down beside her, rubbing her shoulder. 

"Linda, of course he did. Of course he forgave you. He would not have..."

Mikey decided it was enough for him to hear. He had caused enough trouble. With another mumbled apology he left the two by themselves, hurrying back to his car where he sat down behind the wheel and spent the next 30 minutes weeping before he felt able to drive. 

 

He hated remembering that day. He'd tried to forget the whole thing for several days - for about one week, his everyday life had consisted of drowning his sorrows in alcohol, ignoring the probably angry calls from his boss and those from Gerard's hospital, and crying. Lots of crying. It all seemed so hopeless, seeing Frank's family at the funeral made Mikey feel so empty and sad, he just couldn't handle it. 

One week later, he quit his job. He decided it wouldn't make a big difference since his boss had definitely fired him anyway. And Mikey had never enjoy working at that bookstore much.   
He didn't have time for a job anymore - Mikey wanted to dedicate his life to his brother's well-being. After that week, he'd finally been able to resist the urge to get drunk everyday to not have to think about anything and accepted that he had to act. He'd promised to help Gerard, and now he felt like he could and needed to. 

He loved Gerard so much. Mikey had been dreaming awful shit lately, most of those dreams memories of their childhood, which made the whole crap even more tragic. Mikey was used to waking up at around 4AM, sweating, because all the nice memories got mixed up with some psychotic shit. It usually started just fine - the two of them playing with their parents or by themselves, or reading comic books, or listening to music. Then Mikey wouldn't be paying attention for a short second, and as soon as he looked at Gerard again, he saw his brother with a knife in his hand. The dream then varied - last night Gerard killed himself whilst laughing madly, and Mikey could do nothing about it. 

He had tried to avoid a conversation with their parents as well - Mikey couldn't bare seeing even more pain and desperation. They'd tried to call him several times in that first week but then seemed to get that Mikey didn't want to talk and stopped. Firstly Mikey had felt relieved about that, but as soon as he was sober again for more than 1 hour or something, he started feeling guilty and finally called them back. 

Donna and Donald were really happy to hear Mikey's voice. Mikey apologized for not answering their calls - he now saw how horrible it must have been for them to lose one son and then getting ignored by the second. Mikey hated himself for thinking they'd _lost_ Gerard. He tried to tell himself his brother would be fine again one day, they'd just have to be patient and support him. But Mikey simply couldn't comfort himself with that any longer, it seemed so fucking hopeless. 

Mikey'd arranged having dinner with his parents some days later. He slowly came back to reality, slowly accepted his responsibilities again. But he still didn't feel brave enough to return to the hospital...

Mikey knew his parents hadn't really wanted to have dinner with him, and he wasn't really convinced it would be a good idea himself. But he needed to see them, and he knew they needed to see him too. And in a public restaurant they'd all have to force their tears away. Mikey imagined it to be easier this way. 

Gerard's absence had been tangible the whole time, making the dinner very depressing. Mikey had tried to small talk, and their parents had tried to respond, but every word, every syllable that left their mouths transferred a deep sadness. They ended up forcing down most of their food in silence. Donna had to go to the bathroom four times, and Mikey was pretty sure she cried in there.   
After the dinner, Mr and Mrs Way accepted Mikey's invitation to drink a glass of wine with him in his apartment. 

Now they finally talked about Gerard and let their emotions out, talking the whole thing through so many times.   
Against his expectations, Mikey found himself weirdly relieved when his parents left to sleep in a hotel at almost 2AM. It had been nice to let it all out. It had been good to hear it was nobody's fault and they'd get through it somehow, and it had been amazing to let their parents hug and comfort him. 

 

It took Mikey only a few days after that to go back to the hospital. He'd called and asked for Dr Philipps, apologizing yet again for not answering his calls. The doctor reassured Mikey everything was fine and he understood. He asked Mikey to meet him again and Mikey agreed. He couldn't deny Gerard's state any longer. 

Their parents had left again by that time, leaving Mikey to face his responsibilities on his own due to their jobs. They'd wanted to visit Gerard as well but ended up only talking to Dr Philipps, not wanting to see him anymore after the doctor's warnings that Gerard's health might get even worse if they tried to talk to their son now. 

Mikey hadn't known why the doctor wanted him to come to the hospital if he still couldn't communicate with Gerard, but maybe they'd good news? The tiny sparkle of hope had encouraged him enough to drive to the hospital early the next day. 

Unfortunately, he got disappointed. According to Dr Philipps, Gerard's condition hadn't changed one bit. They'd now noticed the man endured very heavy mood changes, and they somehow influenced the behavior of the Frank Gerard was imagining. 

Dr Philipps had noticed that if Gerard was having a good day, he talked to "Frank" with lots of nice words. Frank seemed to "behave himself" on those days, to please Gerard and act the way he wanted him to. 

On the other hand, when Gerard was in a bad mood, Frank usually tried to run away. Gerard then shouted at him or punched him, sometimes he would even cut his body with a knife. Dr Philipps hadn't told Mikey, but Gerard also still raped Frank every now and then. The weird thing was that he seemed to receive actual pleasure from it because he would cum heavily after some minutes of thrusting back and forth and murmuring dirty words in what he believed to be Frank's ear without even touching his own dick. 

After telling Mikey about using several different medications on Gerard that didn't seem to affect him in any way, he finally let him know the actual reason he'd wanted him to come here.   
Although Mikey had assured him he was fine, the doctor still wanted to have him tested for a mental disorder because his assumption the illness was transferred by genes had been confirmed. Mikey agreed of course - he didn't want himself to turn into the monster that once had been his loving brother. Their parents wouldn't be able to take it. 

Dr Philipps arranged a meeting with a therapist Mikey should talk to on a regular basis who was going to evaluate Mikey's mental stability. So far, Mikey had had 2 meetings with him, a friendly man called Dr Raymond Toro. Mikey liked him because he was calm, open-minded and generally a cool guy, barely older than Mikey was himself. 

Ray - as Mikey had been offered to call him - listened to everything Mikey said very carefully, writing things he viewed as important down. Most of the time he asked Mikey questions and let Mikey talk about that subject freely. Mikey had felt like it would be difficult to talk so much about himself, his opinions and values, but he found himself overcoming that feeling quiet easily. In fact, he found it extremely easy to explain his views on the most different things. Last meeting he ended up discussing Star Wars with Ray which - to be honest - was really cool. Mikey even felt like he could become his friend easily, that's if they weren't friends already. And the two of them getting along so well surely indicated that Ray didn't suspect Mikey to be mentally ill, right?  
Dr Philipps had Mikey take several tests and he had to fill in a questionnaire, but apparently it took more than a week to analyze those, so Mikey had to wait for the result. Well he didn't actually _wait_ for them - he was fairly sure he didn't have a mental illness so the results would not be big news. 

 

Mikey had watched Gerard one more time behind that special glassed window only a few days ago. He'd felt like Gerard might have improved and Dr Philipps didn't mind - he only mentioned how Mikey reacted last time and it wouldn't become easier this time. 

Half an hour later the two of them watched Mikey's brother again. He seemed to be really enraged yet again and as the doctor had explained, Gerard talked to Frank very rudely. Which Mikey firstly took as a bad sign until the doctor repeated that that meant Gerard was beginning to realize he didn't live in reality - that made Mikey really happy. It wasn't a big improvement but at least a step in the right direction. Dr Philipps noticed Gerard hadn't been in an angry state for several days now, and maybe he could feel his brother was there? Maybe Mikey's presence helped him come back to the real world? Anyway, it put both men's mind at ease for now. 

Mikey really wanted to believe Gerard would get better and that hospital visit had given him hope. 

After what Frank's dad had told him, Mikey had started praying to God. He'd never been religious or anything, never even went to church more than once or twice, but Mr Iero's words had touched him. Believing in God must give him lots of strength according to the way he had treated Mikey. Mikey knew he himself would _never_ have been able to wish his son's killer God's mercy or anything like that. That's what Mikey needed - strength. And God's mercy, probably. 

He didn't really know how to talk to God, honestly. Mikey simply lay in bed before going to sleep, folded his hands like you do, and whispered to nobody present in the room. Every night Mikey prayed for Gerard to become better, and strength for him and his family. Astonishingly, his nightmares had stopped ever since. He didn't know whether that was due to God, coincide, or simply having the feeling to be protected by some higher power, but it worked. And if that worked, couldn't his prayers for Gerard become true as well?

His newly found faith had even made him go to the cemetery, where he now found himself standing in front of Frank's grave. Mikey still felt guilty as shit, and seeing the perfectly nurtured flowers on the soil made it even worse. He didn't know how well the relation between Frank and his parents was but judging from his grave's appearance, Mikey's brother had destroyed two very loving parents' lives. He had been reluctant to visit Frank's grave, even more reluctant than attending his funeral for some reason. And to be honest, he didn't know why he was there now either. It was like actual God had guided him here. Well, not exactly. He hadn't received some kind of message by him, nor did he have the pleasure of meeting an angel, but it just felt kind of... right to be here? Horribly painful, but right. And somehow, seeing the awful things Gerard had done gave Mikey more strength and hope to make those things right that still could be changed, or even improved. 


	2. Why do I receive food from strangers?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard's point of view. The ending might be a little smutty-ish?

Gerard had been in paradise. After Frank had been a really good boy for several days, the two of them had moved into Gerard's flat, where almost ever day he spent with Frank used to be pure enjoyment. He'd been so proud of his little Frankie - he hadn't even needed to punish him that badly. Gerard might have left several scars and marks all over Frank's body but since he belonged to him anyway, it didn't really matter, Gerard thought. 

Gerard had succeeded to teach Frank how to suck a dick and how to take it in the ass afterwards. In the beginning Frank used to be reluctant and scream whenever Gerard entered him the first time - he even begged him to shove it back in his mouth instead which Gerard found super hot, honestly. Didn't stop him from taking Frank's ass instead though. Gerard loved fucking Frank - that kid was so amazingly _tight_ , every time. And those screams and begging turned Gerard on even more, implying him to shoot his load deep into Frank's hole after only a few minutes every time. 

There had been this one day Gerard would never ever forget. When the both of them woke up in the morning, Gerard saw Frank having morning wood. Obviously he go horny at an instant. What followed next might have been the best sex Gerard had ever had - starting with Frank being so horny he _begged_ , literally begged for Gerard to fuck him. He didn't even want preparation - that day Gerard had felt Frank wanted it to hurt. He even followed Frank's pleas of not using his spit as lube and intruded him dry and harshly - Frank's load moans reassuring him that this was exactly what the younger man had wanted. Gerard, now wanting to actually pleasure Frank, angled for his prostate and, according to Frank's yells of pleasure and his "Fuck, right there! Please don't stop!", succeeded. 

Gerard was sad. Why couldn't it be like this every day? But Frank had become distant lately. He barely talked to Gerard, sometimes wouldn't even eat any of the delicious meals Gerard got him. Frank cried a lot these times, pleading again and again to be let go. Gerard had preferred it when he used to beg for sex - not that Frank's suddenly returning reluctance stopped him, by the way.   
Gerard felt like he'd lost this special connection to his Frankie, and whatever he tried, he could not get it back. Not even giving Frank blowjobs to satisfy him - and Gerard knew for sure his blowjobs were really fucking good. 

He didn't know what he had done to make Frank this stubborn again. Gerard had believed he'd finally managed to break him, that Frank finally would have had accepted he'd stay with Gerard for all eternity. But no, Frank had to start this post pubertal rebellion. It made Gerard angry. Angry and sad.

Although he liked hurting and punishing Frank for trying to escape again and again, it began to exhaust him. Sometimes he wondered if it wouldn't be better to just kill Frank so he could move on and find a new love, but he _loved_ this tiny man. He didn't want to kill him, Frank could never die, Frank was precious and, literally, the only subject in Gerard's life. 

Maybe Frank simply needed to be punished some more. Maybe Gerard needed to show him how much at his mercy Frank was. Maybe then he'd remember why he should be good...

"I don't want to," Frank argued. Why couldn't he just stop talking and open his mouth to let in Gerard's cock? Why always arguing? 

"Frank..." Gerard warned, grabbing Frank's hair and pulling his head up. "Don't pull this off again. Just let me fuck your mouth, God, I'm so horny..."

"Go fuck yourself then," Frank exhaled, face creased from the pain Gerard caused with his hand.

Gerard could see Frank's will becoming weaker, there once had been a time when Gerard hadn't even been able to tell if Frank could feel the pain Gerard tried to cause - now the pain was clearly visible within his beautiful eyes.   
"You know I like it when you behave this way, baby," Gerard responded, now grinning at his success. 

"Fuck you."

Gerard shook his head, still holding Frank's hair in place, and licked a long, wet stripe up Frank's neck. Frank shivered and made an unhappy noise. "Don't..."

"I know you like that," Gerard smirked, playfully biting Frank's skin.  
   
"Fuck no I don't," Frank hissed and screamed in pain only half a second later as Gerard buried his teeth in Frank's neck - just playfully and without drawing blood. "Gerard-"

The older man pulled away and licked his lips hungrily. "You taste so good, fuck." 

Frank's face was grimaced by the pain, a single tear escaping his left eye. "You're such an asshole-"

"And you're going to let me fuck your mouth. Open up, slut!"

A sharp inhale behind himself let Gerard stop in the middle of unzipping his pants. _How on earth could there be any noise caused by a human behind him when Frank was right there in front of him?_

Ignoring Frank's defeated gesture of opening his mouth, Gerard turned around - and found himself staring at a woman he had never seen before. 

"What the fuck?!" he exclaimed, staring at the stranger. 

Her face was filled with horror and confusion as she stared back at Gerard, hands clasped over her mouth, eyes big from the shock. The stupid woman wasn't able to form any words, apparently. 

"Who the fuck are you? How did you come in here?!" Gerard shouted, furiously stepping towards her. 

That seemed to finally bring the woman to realize she needed to talk to Gerard. How dare she, intruding his and Frank's home without any kind of invitation? And she didn't even have respect to answer Gerard who obviously was the one in charge here. Even she should notice that - Gerard was standing in front of another man tied to a chair, demanding to get a blowjob. You didn't need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out Gerard needed to be treated with respect. 

She cleared her throat before answering quietly. "You- can see me?" 

That enraged Gerard even more. "Well obviously yes! What do you think you are, a kinda ghost or something? And don't you fucking ignore my questions."

She raised her brows in surprise, then seemed to regain control and bowed her head submissively. "Sure. Sorry. I... I'm Lindsey. I came to, uh, bring your food?" The woman called Lindsey gestured towards the plate in her hands, making sure Gerard could see she wasn't lying.  
   
Gerard didn't know what to think anymore, how to react. Food was good, he guessed? But why was this woman he had never seen before in his flat? Gerard looked at Frank as if wanting to see the other man's reaction to know what to do himself. But Frank appeared to be confused as well, staring at Lindsey with hazy eyes. 

"I can just put it here and you can eat it later," Lindsey suggested and placed the plate on a white table Gerard had never seen before. Okay, this was becoming stranger every minute. "Eat up. I'll be back later."

And just like that she smiled at him briefly, then turned around and started to walk away. Gerard could not let this happen. "Wait!" he shouted, satisfied when Lindsey actually turned around and looked at him patiently. "Why do I receive food from strangers?"

She raised an eyebrow, considering what to answer. "Oh, uh. You ordered it." Her unsure face and the way that sounded more like a question than a simple statement combined suggested not only that she was a really bad liar, but also that something was seriously wrong here.   
It confused Gerard, made him feel insecure and alarmed. He didn't want her to see, that's why he shouted at her to cover up his anxiety. "I did not fucking order that!" His breath came heavy and unsteady, and suddenly he felt really sick. "Don't you fucking lie to me!"

She shrugged and turned around again. "Hey, I'm just doing what I've been told."

Gerard hated that she wanted to leave without any obviously necessary explanation. He ran after her, grabbing her by the wrist and spun Lindsey around. 

Now there was fear in her eyes, making Gerard feel in charge again. He smirked at her and pulled her back to the center of the room. "You don't just walk out on me," he explained, never taking his eyes off her, watching the woman intently. 

Her eyes flickered and she kept throwing hasty gazes toward the door. "Gerard, let go of my wrist or you will regret it."

The fact that her voice was warning, not threatening, made Gerard actually take a step back, not even aware how absurd it was that Lindsey knew his name although Gerard didn't give it away.

"Then tell me what the fuck is going on," he demanded, folding his arms. 

Lindsey, relieved Gerard had stopped crushing her wrist, raised her hands defensively. "I already said, you ordered that food and I was told to bring it to you."

"Then how do you get in my apartment?" Gerard asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Lindsey looked confused and didn't speak for a second before hastily stuttering an answer. "Oh, I- the door was open. I just let myself in. Sorry, didn't think it would bother you."

"Oh," Gerard said. This was bullshit. Something here was really wrong, Gerard was missing something important, and the fact that he couldn't figure out what it was gave him a heavy headache. Suddenly he didn't want to continue the conversation anymore, but sleep in his bed under multiple warm blankets, sung and kissed good night by his mother, and dream something to forget about the whole world. 

"Are you okay?" Lindsey asked, looking concerned. 

Gerard nodded, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. "Just- just a headache, I'm good."

"There you go," Lindsey said a couple of seconds later, forcing Gerard to open his eyes to not stay clueless what she was talking about, to see a pill lying on her flat palm. "Painkiller," she explained, offering Gerard a smile. 

The man was way too grateful to think about why on earth Lindsey had not only food, but also painkillers for him, and accepted it. He swallowed it without any water, just wanting to get it down so the thing would kick in as soon as possible.   
"Thanks," he said. Gerard eyed Lindsey suspiciously, still not convinced whether to believe her story or not. 

"Maybe you should get some rest? You look tired." 

Gerard nodded, now realizing that he _was_ feeling pretty exhausted. Lindsey's smile grew larger and she nodded encouragingly before yet again turning around to leave, this time for real. 

"Good night, Gerard."

**

Gerard found himself in bed after what felt like a long sleep. Although he still felt tired and sleepy, his heart raced so fast it made him want to throw up. He'd had another dream again. He must have had. 

A glimpse at the table standing beside him told him that none of it had been a dream, and that that Lindsey woman really had brought him food. The now probably cold soup basically waited to be eaten, yet Gerard decided to leave it untouched. 

Things seemed a lot clearer now after getting some sleep. Obviously Lindsey was a liar and not trust-worthy at all. _You ordered that food and I was told to bring it to you._ Gerard had not ordered food. He would recall, for fuck's sake. Gerard never ordered food, in fact. He cooked his own food.   
Right?

It now occurred to Gerard that he could not remember cooking anything the past couple of weeks, yet he always ate. Always. He was able to remember that, for a change. 

So did that mean Lindsey had brought him those meals too? 

The thought of her intruding Gerard's flat multiple times without him noticing any of it weirded him out. Usually _he_ was the one weirding out others, he enjoyed seeing the fear in other people's eyes, and their confusion turn into panic. But now he was on the other side, now there was somebody scaring _him_ , and Gerard really didn't like that. 

Next time Lindsey came here, he'd not let her go until she gave him answers. Who was she really? Why did she feed him? Who did she work for?

Maybe the police was after Gerard. Or the FBI. Or the Secret Services. Or the CIA? Oh god. Oh god, they were after him. They must have found out-

-about what?

Gerard had done something horrible. Guilt started to creep through his veins as his heart started to pound even quicker, his vision went blurry and he breathed heavily as he scratched his neck with some oddly well manicured finger nails whilst scanning his brain for the awful act that caused this feeling. It was too much. He wanted to bleed. Gerard needed to see blood, to taste and feel it. God he needed to know what he had done. Blood and guilt. Blood and guilt. Guilt for something he didn't remember. He kept scratching and digging his blunt nails into his flesh until he finally managed to draw blood. The liquid was viscous, and most importantly of all not nearly enough for Gerard. Hungrily he licked the poor amount of blood from his fingers and decided he needed more, and not from himself. Frank. 

Where the fuck was Frank? Having not thought about him once since waking up made Gerard feel weird - usually he spent every _second_ of his existence thinking about him. And now Frank had been completely forgotten?

Something was wrong here. And Gerard knew who to blame. Lindsey. It all was Lindsey's fault. She'd ruined everything. Before she turned up, Gerard had wanted to fuck Frank, wanted to punish him for his behavior. Lindsey had completely demolished his plans. He needed to do that now - Frank needed to be shown his limits. And Gerard could satisfy his thirst for blood.  
   
That's if Lindsey hadn't taken Frank from him - Gerard actually considered her doing that. She'd ruined everything else as well. 

"Frank?" he shouted. Frank usually slept in his room but since Gerard had not tied him off the chair in the living room yesterday, he guessed that's where he still was now. _If he still was there._  

"Frankie?" he tried again, forcing his voice to not sound like he was as raging and confused as he was right now. And scared. So scared Frank was gone. 

Gerard got up and out of the room. "Frank!"  
Heaven help Lindsey if Frank was gone. Gerard would cut her into fucking pieces. Nobody could take away his Frankie, and whoever did needed to fucking die horribly. 

Gerard hurried into the other room, holding his breath and anticipating the worst.   
But there he was. Frank sat on his chair, gazing at Gerard, challengingly. 

"There you are," Gerard couldn't help but exhale in relief. Thank fuck. 

"Of course," the younger man answered naughtily. "Where would I go? I'm tied to the fucking chair you know."

Frank's provocative tone made Gerard even angrier, but in a way he liked it. "Watch your mouth," he warned, stepping closer. 

"Fuck you. I had to sleep on this fucking chair, it's uncomfortable as hell." Frank looked like he actually expected Gerard to be sympathetic. That boy seemed to not have a single clue what Gerard had to go through right now - in fact, Gerard couldn't remember either. 

As he watched Frank sitting on his chair, pouting and bad-tempered, but still there, he forgot about his sorrows. Everything seemed to be normal now. Gerard knew something had stressed him out before but he didn't even bother trying to recall that, now that he knew Frank had not been taken from him. Frank was all he needed, and nothing else mattered.   
Gerard hated that Frank didn't value that at all. Instead he had to listen to Frank complaining about a bad sleep. 

"Thought you were used to that," Gerard said coldly. "You should appreciate you don't have to be in that old basement anymore. I let you be in _my_ apartment, you should be fucking thankful." 

Frank didn't respond to that, just looked at Gerard with less anger and frustration, but the slightest sign of remorse in his eyes. 

"I already need to punish you for so many things, Frankie. Be a good boy and apologize, or it'll just get worse." 

"I'm sorry, Gerard," Frank answered, eyes on the floor. "I was being selfish. Please don't punish me even more, I'm sorry-"

"That's right, you're selfish. Go on."

"-I'm sorry for speaking up, I will keep my whore mouth shut from now on. I'll only open it after being spoken to, or to suck your dick, Gerard. I'm sorry, please let me apologize with a blowjob. Please please."

His puppy eyes emphasized his apology - which by the way now finally was the way Gerard expected it. It had taken some time to teach Frank how to apologize genuinely because Frank was a stubborn little whore, but now he knew how to beg Gerard correctly. 

He would have let him suck his cock anyway - obviously. So Gerard didn't see a reason not to fulfill Frank's request and opened his zipper, took out his member and began slowly rubbing his hard-on whilst eying Frank.   
"You wanna suck me, huh?" he asked provokingly. God, submissive Frank was his favorite. He also liked him being unrepentant because it was fun to break him over and over again, but Frank _begging_ for Gerard's dick was something else. 

"Yes, please Gerard." Frank stared up at him, pleading not only with words but also with his eyes. Gerard could see how much it cost him to not stare at his dick - he knew he wasn't allowed to just yet. Gerard had trained him so well, such a good little pet. 

"You know you haven't really earned it, right?" Gerard teased him, smirking. "You deserve to get fucked in the ass and bleed."

Frank nodded, swallowing. "I know. I'm sorry. I've been a bad pet for you - please let me try to make it up again. Please, I swear I'll suck you so good, just please, please shove your cock in my throat."

"So eager, Frankie," Gerard breathed. That boy was turning him on so fucking much, he could have cum right here and now. "Why are you so eager?"

"I want to be good for you. I've been bad, I know, but I want to be good. Please..." Finally he allowed his eyes to catch a glimpse of Gerard's by now throbbing cock before looking into Gerard's eyes again quickly. 

Gerard slowed down his stroking - he was on the edge already, fuck - and came closer to Frank. Now the younger man's eyes were inches away from what he right now desired the most, the extreme effort he had to bring up to resist the urge of closing the gap between his and Gerard's body making him whimper. 

Gerard helped Frank by tilting his head up so their eyes locked, smirking at the disparity Frank showed. _That's_ what he wanted, fuck yes.   
"Open up," Gerard whispered, watching Frank obey immediately, and pushed his thumb into Frank's mouth. "Suck."

Frank hollowed his cheeks quickly, his tongue danced around Gerard's finger passionately and he moved his head back and forth, not breaking eye contact the whole time. Gerard couldn't help but moan at the view of this - Frank gazing up at him through his lashes whilst Gerard's thumb was sucked into his pet's perfect mouth again and again.  
   
His eyes still pleaded for his cock though, so Gerard finally showed some mercy after a couple of minutes and replaced his finger by his pulsating member, Frank swallowing it gratefully.   
"Shit," Gerard cursed. The fact that Frank had to get into a really uncomfortable position to pleasure him like that - upper body leaned forward as far as the bonds would allow, neck held at an awkward angle - and Frank still practically _died_ to suck Gerard's dick nonetheless was such a huge turn on. "You've become really good at this- oh _fuck_!"

Frank had found one of Gerard's sweet spots and now caressed it with his tongue gently, making the older man's knees go weak.   
"God, such a good pretty slut. If you keep going like that I might be not too harsh when punishing you-"

Frank moaned in agreement, the vibration sending another wave of pure pleasure through Gerard's dick and into his stomach where his orgasm built up, dangerously fast now.   
Gerard pulled away, leaving Frank's mouth half-opened with red, beautifully wet lips. He looked up at him expectantly, a little fearful he had done something wrong. 

"Shit, I'm going to fuck you so hard," Gerard gasped, stepping behind Frank to untie him. "You want that, huh? You wanna get fucked like the good whore you are? You wanna feel my cock in your obedient little ass?"

"Yes, please Gerard, fuck me," Frank breathed, leaving his arms behind his back although Gerard had unbound him already. Gerard admired how fucking well he obeyed. "P-please, can I-?"

"Yes you may move your arms," Gerard offered generously, but Frank shook his head. 

"No, I've got a question, I-"

"Ask me, then." Gerard liked Frank's submissiveness, but his hard cock made him become impatient. 

"I- Can you cum in my mouth, please? I know I don't deserve it but please, cum down my throat, I want to taste your cum, please Gerard-"

"If you can take my whole cock in your ass without preparation?" Gerard demanded, ignoring his leaking dick twitching. So fucking submissive, such a good boy. 

"Anything Gerard, just please-"

"We will see," Gerard answered, hardly being able to suppress a big smirk. "But before I take your asshole, I need to do something else to you-"

And with that his lips and teeth basically attacked Frank's neck, sucking and biting harshly. His blood thirst had returned within a second, and he needed to realize it now. Frank moaned and tilted his head to the other side, letting Gerard take what he wanted without hesitation.   
Gerard took a tiny amount of skin between his front teeth and pulled, sucking it into his mouth lustfully before digging his teeth into the flesh, hard enough to make the skin rip and the delicious fluid flow. Frank gasped as Gerard started to suck the blood into his mouth, swallowing it eagerly, and Gerard didn't care whether it was a noise of pleasure or shock. Frank's blood tasted so fucking amazing, he could feel even more pre cum leak. 

"G-Gerard-" Frank breathed, groaning. "Please, please fuck me now- I need your cock up my ass-"

He yelled when Gerard's teeth dug into his skin even deeper for a second before Gerard let go.

"You promised to be a good pet," Gerard reminded him, licking Frank's wound and breathing against his wet skin. "You said you wouldn't speak unless you're told to." He picked another spot of skin for his teeth to get buried into, this time with way more skin between his front teeth than last time. He bit Frank again, sucking even more of his blood with greedy swallows down his throat, enjoying every drop. 

"I-I'm sorry," Frank answered hoarsely, Gerard ignored him and kept sucking his blood for as long as he desired. 

Gerard enjoyed the taste and Frank's whimpering some more minutes before he grabbed him by the hair and shoved him onto the floor on Frank's back. Covering his cock in his bloody spit, Gerard pushed into the younger man's tight hole, admiring his tightness and screams. 

“Shit, Gerard, oh God-” Frank moaned, nails digging into the carpet. 

Gerard fucked him hard and rough, finding his prostate after only a few thrusts. Soon Frank came thickly all over his own stomach which led him to beg Gerard to go slower because of his oversensitivity, but his screams just encouraged Gerard to go even faster. With a defeated groan, Frank came a second time only a few minutes later, implying Gerard to climax heavily as well.  
And as he lay on top of his Frankie, panting and gasping for breath, every remnant of doubt and sorrow disappeared fully. Gerard's subconsciousness had successfully blocked out ever meeting Lindsey, ever feeling guilty about something he couldn't recall, and it wouldn't even come to his mind again when he ate his annoyingly cold soup half an hour later.


	3. November 2007

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long!

„So he saw you? He integrated you into his... world?” Mikey couldn't trust his ears. Earlier today he had gotten another phone call and it was Dr Philipps himself asking Mikey to visit him. He sounded excited, almost positive, implying Mikey to jump to his feet and start driving immediately. He hadn't known what to expect, maybe they found some other medication to help his brother...? Mikey hadn't even dared to _hope_ it was something about Gerard himself. And now here he was with Dr Philipps and a nurse the doctor had introduced as Lindsey in the doctor's office, and he'd just been told his brother no longer had ignored every real person visiting him?

“Yes, exactly,” Lindsey said, nodding. “He even accepted painkillers from me. He was rude – but that's okay, I guess.”

“That's amazing!” Mikey beamed, wanting to get off the chair immediately and go talk to his brother himself. Finally there was some real hope – after over two months of absolutely nothing positive happening, there were the big news. He needed to call his parents and tell them – they would be so happy. He needed to thank God for listening to his prayers-

“It is,” Dr Philipps said, biting his bottom lip briefly with furrowed brows. “But-”

There it was. The big But. Of course. The joy disappeared from Mikey's body as quickly as it had flown into him. He now realized how the doctor's face wasn't as delighted as it should have been – in fact, he looked rather worried and thoughtful. “What?” Mikey asked, hesitant.

“He acknowledged Lindsey three days ago. Ever since-”

“ _Three days ago_? Why haven't you told me before?”

“We had to wait for further happenings. Your brother's state has deteriorated again, I'm sorry.” And Dr Philipps looked like he actually was sorry. Mikey waited for him to continue talking, to explain the devastating statement he had just uttered, but it seemed like he thought that wasn't necessary, and it drove Mikey mad.

“What does that mean?” he asked, impatient and raging. Taking a deep breath he tried to calm his system – he needed to cooperate with the doctor to help his brother.

“When Lindsey had left, Gerard took a nap as we told you already. We were surprised to see that it was the first dreamless night he'd had since coming here. When he got up, he was-”

Mikey raised a hand, symbolizing the doctor to pause. “Wait, wait, wait. _How_ do you know whether Gerard dreams or not?”

The fact that Dr Philipps looked rather like he got caught in the act increased Mikey's anger. What the hell were they pulling off here? Mikey wasn't a big fan of all those medications they tried on his brother – sure, they were supposed to help him get better, but Mikey couldn't help but feel like they were treating Gerard as a kind of test object.

“He usually talks during sleeping,” Dr Philipps said hesitantly, then seemed to change his mind and added, “And we're using an MRI device on your brother that allows us to know what he's dreaming about. Well, obviously not exactly – but we can see what kind of dreams he's having, vivid or dull, angry or calm. It helps us to analyze his mental state, you know, with the MRI we know whether he's feeling save, confused or enraged. Plainly we can't just look inside your brother's head but it would be really helpful, that's why we're glad to be able to use that device.”

“Shouldn't I have signed some kind of form for this? You're recording his data, right?” Mikey asked, suddenly not only infuriated but also suspicious. He didn't like that, he didn't like that at all. 

“Mr Way, you don't need to worry about it. Everything we do here is legal. I didn't tell you about it because I didn't think you would want to know every single detail about how we're treating your brother.” 

He was right about that. Of course, Mikey wanted to know how Gerard was doing, but did he really care about all the trifles? Maybe he was just overreacting. He needed to calm down, this wasn't about Mikey feeling disappointed, no, the focus was on his sick brother. Gerard was important here.  
“Sure. I'm sorry, can you keep talking about what Gerard did, please?” 

Nodding, the doctor cleared his throat and continued. “Certainly. After your brother woke up, he was in a really unstable condition. He looked really angry, frustrated, bewildered. We were about to interact to keep him in this state a little longer because from what his actions told us, he was on the edge of _seeing_ where he actually was. But then he scratched his neck, made himself bleed, and from that point on he was lost again. Frank, who he hadn't talked to since talking to Lindsey, now was relevant to him again. It was like he'd completely forgotten about him until- until tasting his own blood. First he talked to Frank in a rather angry voice, but then Frank must have apologized because Gerard calmed.” He cleared his throat again, making Mikey fathom there was more to that. He wasn't stupid – he knew Gerard had raped Frank, and he'd seen it happen in Gerard's fantasy once. Surely that happened quite often and Mikey was grateful the doctor didn't mention it to him. It would make the whole issue unnecessarily awkward. 

“When Lindsey brought him his food again the next day, he didn't talk to her. Maybe you can go on, Lindsey?” Dr Philipps suggested.

Lindsey nodded. “Well, I was told to bring him his food again – and it needed to be _me_ since the doctors wanted to make sure he recognized me. They wanted us to develop a relationship so Gerard has somebody he know he can trust. It wouldn't even have been my shift, I had a day off, you know... Anyway, when I entered his room, I expected him to talk to me immediately - maybe even yell at me for, I don't know, maybe he thought the pills I gave him made him go crazy or something, some patients tend to think so – I had worked out some things to calm him beforehand, even. But he didn't look at me when I placed the plate on his bedside table. And even when I tried to make a conversation, he wouldn't answer. I don't think he acknowledged my presence. It was just like all those weeks before...” She glanced at the doctor briefly, telling him she was done talking. 

Mikey felt uneasy. He'd come here with so much hope earlier, and now it all was gone. 

“We think his condition is even worse than before, Mr Way,” Dr Philipps added. “Right now there's nothing we can do to help him. We'll try to talk to him more often from now on – we're going to send Lindsey to check on him as often as possible, and hopefully he will recognize her one day.”

“What if _I_ tried talking to him?” Mikey asked, biting his lip to suppress the suddenly up swelling tears. He missed his brother so much. It had been so many weeks he couldn't talk to him, yet he was the only subject of his thoughts. Constantly worrying about somebody you love without being able to see how – or if – he improved was hard, and Mikey would do anything to finally release himself from that torture. 

“We've considered that too,” the doctor said, making Mikey look up in surprise. “Yes, we've been thinking about that, and it might be an option we should keep in mind. But for now, it's not something we should do. Gerard is absolutely convinced he's still with Frank at the moment – Lindsey broke this sureness when she talked to him, made him question the whole thing – but it was too much for his brain. He couldn't handle it, so his brain built another, way thicker wall and threw him back into his own reality where everything is fine. We need to view this as the more positive affect though; it would have been equally possible for Gerard to realize what he's done, and that could have easily led to a mental breakdown-”

“I see,” Mikey nodded, weighing Gerard's options. “But- when _can_ I see him?” 

“We will keep working on his condition. I can't tell you when he's going to be ready for it – it depends on how well he's reacting to our treatment and medicine. We mustn't overdo it, it needs to be planned carefully.”

“Surely. But please let me know when I can try to talk to him- I just miss my brother.”

**

Ray sat in his armchair, leaned back and one leg crossed over the other. Today he had managed to tame his rather voluminous Afro just little better than usually – he thought so, anyway. To anybody else it looked like any other day, but Ray had left his house with the feeling that it looked slightly less chaotic. Not that he didn't like his hair, in fact he was really fucking proud of it, but sometimes he felt like it made him look a little unprofessional, maybe? Well, whatever. Let's just let Ray believe he made some progress this morning.

Right now he was having a session with one of his favorite patients, Mikey, a guy he really liked, and who – from Ray's judging – sure as hell did not deserve what he was going through right now. His brother had suddenly turn out to be a psychopath, he'd raped a man and let him starve. Something you can't just swallow and keep living your life like nothing happened. You meet people with sadistic predispositions quite often these days, unfortunately – Ray determined such trains of thought in about 40% of his patients, being lucky that he could call him his patients so they could work something out, work against it.

But unfortunately, Gerard hadn't been a patient of his, or of any other therapist. Either Gerard hadn't noticed his mental state, not valued it as something abnormal, probably, or he'd accepted it and simply lived with and for it, assuming he was just a usual guy. Whatever it was, Ray might have been able to stop it, but it was far too late now. From what Mikey had told him about the doctor's transactions, and from what the mental hospital had let him know to support Mikey, Gerard was deep, deep down in his fantasy world. Ray was surprised Gerard still carried out every day activities – like eating – himself; Ray had also seen patients who were so lost in in their own head that they forgot how to consume food and water. 

Gerard would eat and breathe, but he wouldn't talk. Well, he did talk, but only to Frank Iero, the man he'd killed. Ray found it scary and kind of sad, but also really interesting and astonishing if he was completely honest. Gerard's brain was absolutely amazing – not many people's imagination and willpower was strong enough to convince him that there was nothing he'd done wrong, apart from kidnapping Frank which also seemed to be fine with Gerard's conscious. Mikey's talks about their childhood and Gerard's former life emphasized Ray's assumption Gerard was some kind of genius – it really was a pity that he turned out a crazy little motherfucker. 

Ray had heard about Frank's fate on the news before he'd known Mikey. Reporters and police had talked about _a young man with an awful destiny; tragic loss; poor restaurant waiter robbed of his life._ Nobody had really given any information about Gerard, or what exactly he'd done to Frank, which was a good thing, Ray thought. If Gerard should ever recover, he should be able to start again, without people judging him for his actions. The man was sick. And that wasn't his fault – it was nobody's fault. And if he was half the man his brother was, Gerard was a really cool dude. 

Today Mikey was in an especially bad condition, and Ray was happy their appointment was today so he could talk to him about it, make him feel better. They'd been meeting two or three times a week since September now, and sometimes Ray noticed him progressing. If Mikey wouldn't be his patient, Ray would be one of his best friends, he was sure of that. And as soon as Mikey's treatment was over, Ray wanted to start hanging out with him as his friend. He really wanted to stay in touch with him. 

Mikey had told Ray that Gerard had spoken to a nurse three days ago, which had made him really happy at first. These news had impressed Ray – from what he'd heard before, he hadn't expected Gerard's state to improve this quickly. But then Mikey continued about Gerard having fallen back into his previous condition, perhaps even a worse one, not acknowledging anyone's presence whatsoever. It was horrible to see Mikey like this, and although the man visibly fought against it, Ray saw a few tears in his eyes every now and then before they were blinked away quickly. 

“Do you think Gerard would talk to you if you were able to be with him?” Ray asked. Mikey had uttered that he really wanted to be the person trying to get Gerard to talk to him, and he seemed oddly lost in the illusion that would make everything better.

Mikey nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I hope so. But he knows me, and I know him, and he's already talked to a woman he doesn't know. I think I'd be able to cater to him way better, and maybe he will respond to that.”

“Why?”

“Because...” Mikey closed his eyes and started to rub his temples. “Because, maybe, he'll _feel_ I'm there. Maybe he just needs to know somebody cares for him, and that not everything in this world sucks, that I miss him and I want him back. I know how this sounds, and I don't mean to be the one who turns crazy himself because he misses his brother so much, but god, I do, Ray. I do fucking miss him.”

“Have you told the doctors about this assumption?” Ray asked, leaning forward with his index finger touching his chin.

Mikey shook his head, looking exhausted. Ray could tell this conversation demanded a great deal of him, and he considered changing the subject and continue talking about Gerard later. He didn't want Mikey to get depressed talking about his brother. “No, it sounds stupid. I've never said it out loud, and in my head it sounded less weird... I just- Ray, what if he never gets better? What if he never will be the same again? It's been two months already, and despite that one thing no progress has been made so far. I think I'm just desperate, that's why I come up with shit like that. I wish there was something I can do, I really do, but- it all is so damn hopeless, and it's breaking me.” He looked at Ray, no longer caring about hiding his tears, and Ray found he really did look desperate. “Sometimes... Sometimes I wish he was dead. It's awful, I'm so fucking sorry for even thinking it, but I'm... then it would be over at least. Then I wouldn't have to worry about him every _minute_ I'm awake, and of course it would be horrible the first couple of months, maybe even the first couple of years, maybe it will always be horrible, but... I don't know. I think it's easier to get used to _'My brother is dead'_ than _'My brother is a psychopath'_. I just want it to be over. I want him to be better, and I want the doctors to keep trying, and I'll keep doing what I can myself, but just- I-” 

Ray had knitted his brows and looked at the now heavily sobbing Mikey in front of him with a lot of sympathy. He understood. It was cruel to say Mikey wanted his brother dead, but under these circumstances, Ray would have done the same. He got up and crouched next to Mikey who had hidden his face behind his hands, body shaking, and put a calming hand on Mikey's leg. 

“I can understand that, Mikey,” Ray said quietly. “You don't have to be sorry for thinking something like that. I'm glad you are able to let it out, it's important that you tell me about it and not bottle it up inside you. Do you want to be alone for a minute?”

Mikey shook his head. “No,” he uttered with a thick voice. “No, I'm good- It's okay.”

“Okay.” Ray petted his leg shortly, then got up again and sat back down, waiting patiently for Mikey to calm down. A couple of minutes passed by until Mikey removed his hands from his reddened face and looked at Ray again. 

“Sorry, Ray... Sometimes, sometimes it just gets a bit too much.”

Ray nodded. “Don't worry about it. I know it's hard- but you need to keep the faith, Mikey. Although two months seems like a long time for us, especially when everything we can do is hope and pray for Gerard, but for him and his brain, it's nothing. The disorder is deep inside him, Mikey, and it's going to take more than a few months to cure him. That's cruel and torturous, I know, but maybe we just need to stay patient.”

“I know.” Mikey's face looked pained, eyes on the floor. “I understand all that, and I'm really trying to stay patient, it's just so _hard_.”

“I have a suggestion for you,” Ray said and offered Mikey a smile. “You should go on vacation. It doesn't have to be extremely long, or expensive, but maybe all you need to find your patience again is getting out of the whole disaster for a couple of days. Meet new people. Look at the situation with a lot of distance. Let go of the pressure for as long as you need to.” 

“But Ray,” Mikey argued. “I can't- I can't leave Gerard alone here. What if he makes progress when I'm away, what if he wants to talk to me?”

“Then you can take the next plane back. Come on, Mikey. In one of our previous meetings you told me you always wanted to go to Florida. Why not now? You'll like it, I promise.”

**

Mikey ended up flying to Miami, Florida to stay there for two weeks only 5 days after Ray's suggestion, reluctant at first. Although he trusted Ray, he didn't think this vacation would help him at all – also it was expensive as hell, Mikey had been able to afford it just barely. And for the first 3 or 4 days, he'd been right. His constant worries seemed to have worsened even, since he spent every minute staring at his phone, expecting it to ring, always expecting some kind of news about Gerard.

Last week he had gotten a message, but from Ray. _I bet you're on your phone the whole time, aren't you? Fucking turn it off! I hear Miami has a pretty cool beach, just leave your phone in your hotel for three hours and enjoy yourself. You deserve it._

Putting trust in his therapist and friend, Mikey had complied. He was an expert, he knew what he was talking about, right?

Turns out that yes, Ray's suggestion was a really good one. The next day he left the hotel early, and for the first time since checking in, to make his way to the beach. Since he hadn't been able to afford one of the really expensive hotels near the sea, Mikey had to walk for about 30 or 40 minutes until he reached the beach. Walking through Miami was nice though – so many colors, noises, people. Every single one of these people was dealing with completely different shit than Mikey, maybe even worse stuff, who knew, but they managed anyway. It was good to see that there was a world without Gerard, although it hadn't seemed like that to Mikey for the last months. Neither of these people knew Gerard, neither of them cared. It was ridiculously relaxing to just think about that.

The beach was _beautiful_. Despite it being November, it was rather hot and Mikey hadn't brought any sunscreen and even ended up talking to a nice lady who was friendly enough to give Mikey some of her suncream. The woman was interesting, Mikey spent even more than three hours just talking to her. She seemed plain and funny, and apparently liked talking about herself very much, leaving Mikey to just learn a lot about her life without having to talk or even think about his own. Mikey thought he even might have developed a kind of romantic interest in her, she was sweet, after all. But unfortunately, his heart was filled otherwise at the moment. They exchanged numbers, anyway. And promised to meet again the next day. 

Days passed by, and soon Mikey needed to take his flight back. His phone had stayed silent the whole time, and his stomach felt uncomfortably heavy as he now watched the clouds underneath him, knowing every passing minute brought him back to all his sorrows, but also to his brother and his friends, and he promised to himself he would thank Ray a million times for suggesting this timeout, and that he would never question him again, because he had been 100% correct.


	4. What do you know that I don't?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard has a discussion with his subconscious and talks to a real person for a change.

„I wanna take a walk today,“ Gerard suddenly exclaimed whilst having breakfast with Frank. The two of them were sitting in Gerard's kitchen, two big bowls of cereal and two even bigger coffee mugs on the table.

Since Frank had been behaving really well lately, Gerard had agreed to let him walk around without any bonds most of the time. Usually Gerard only tied him to his bed when they went to sleep, or when Frank didn't feel like sex but Gerard really wanted to. But even then a few slaps and threats would make Frank change his mind and spread his legs willingly.

Gerard was really proud of him. He turned out to be such a good boy and did almost everything he was told, including their by now weekly session of cutting Frank so Gerard could play with his blood. Sometimes Gerard liked the other man's blood even more than sex with him, sometimes feeling the warm liquid on his tongue and fingers was way better than receiving a blowjob.

Altogether their relationship had improved a lot. Those times Frank would be stubborn and act like a bitch, or even beg Gerard to let him go were long gone. Instead, Frank had accepted his situation, had accepted all he had to do to keep Gerard's mood up was to let him fuck him twice a day, suck his dick and that kind of stuff. Gerard felt save around his little Frankie, and he usually felt like Frank felt the same. Gerard knew Frank trusted him. Why shouldn't he – if it wasn't for Gerard, Frank would be long dead, right?

And because he had been so obedient recently, so well behaved and good, it made Gerard almost choke on his cereals when Frank now shook his head and looked at him with a strict face. “I don't think that's a good idea, Gerard.”

Gerard pushed the bowl aside and leaned over the table a little. “Is that so. And why?”

“You wouldn't like it,” Frank stated whilst continuing to eat.

The lack of explanation made Gerard angry. He growled and clenched his fists, but tried to keep his voice neutral. “Why wouldn't I like it?”

“I don't know. Just don't go outside. Stay with me here, we can fuck if you want, it's gonna be-”

Gerard jumped to his feet, seized Frank by the collar and pulled him off the chair with one quick motion. Frank struggled, unsuccessfully trying to shove Gerard away. “Stop, what the fuck?” he shouted.

“I don't like it when you behave like this,” Gerard grumbled. “First of all, I know that I can fuck you if I want to, I don't need you to tell me that. Secondly if you don't explain to me why I shouldn't go outside today, I will make you bleed again. I'll make you bleed so much that I can't promise you will survive it.”

He was overreacting, he knew that, and his words were nothing but empty threats. He would make Frank bleed, yes, but never enough to kill him. He could never kill Frank. So pretty, so perfect, way too angel-like to be killed.

“I- sorry, I...” Frank stuttered, still trying to get Gerard's fist off his collar. “I didn't-”

“Stop babbling and explain.” Although Gerard loved it when Frank was submissive and sorry, he wanted answers. There was something about the situation that made him feel uncomfortable. Uneasy. Something in his brain had been alarmed.

“I- just want you to stay. Why is this such a big deal?” Frank panted. “I was just thinking- you haven't been outside in a long time, have you? Maybe you don't like the world anymore! Maybe you … I don't know, just stay. It's better for the both of us.”

“What do you mean I haven't been outside? I do go outside! It has become rare, yes, but that's just because of you, you ungrateful bastard!”

“I didn't mean to insult you, Gerard-” He finally stopped trying to get out of Gerard's vise-like grip and looked rather defeated. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to anger you, I just- trust me. It's not gonna be a nice experience. I want you to stay with me.”

Gerard couldn't help but feel like there was a bigger meaning behind Frank's words and pleas, but instead of feeling discouraged by them, he felt curious to find out what he was talking about. Surely, he preferred to stay inside nowadays. He had everything he needed here. Frank. So why bother with the outside world?

But maybe Frank was right. Perhaps there was something out there he wouldn't like. Gerard had never been a fan of crowds or people in general, he favored staying by himself. Or with Frank, for that matter. Frank was so important to him. Important enough to force himself to calm down a little and finally let go off his collar.

“But why?” he asked with a soothed voice, eying Frank suspiciously. “What do you know that I don't?”

“Nothing. I've been in this flat with you the whole time, there's nothing I know that is unknown to you. We've been together for such a long time. We're the same person, basically.” Again there was something about Frank's voice that made Gerard shiver, made him question what Frank told him. Something was wrong here. He just couldn't figure out what it was. Yet.

“You know what,” Gerard said after a few minutes of silence. “I _will_ take a walk. I feel like fresh air. And there's nothing you can do about it because I will tie you to the chair again. And when I come back I'll fuck your ass without any preparation. You've been bad.”

“Gerard, no...” Frank pleaded, grabbing his hand. “Don't. I mean, fuck me as much as you want, I don't care. But do it now. Don't go. Please, I'm serious.”

“Don't tell me what to do!” Gerard pushed Frank's hand aside, then grabbed him by the hair and pulled him in the living room where the chair stood. Ignoring his begging, Gerard secured the rope around Frank's wrists and ankles, then turned around to leave.

“You will regret this, Gerard-”

This earned Frank a firm stroke to the face when Gerard turned around quickly. “Now you're threatening me or what?” he hissed.

“N-no, I-”

“Just shut up. I will punish you for this later.” Gerard glanced at Frank for one more second, then stormed out of the room and into the hallway where he passed the coatrack and made his way towards the front door. He wouldn't need a jacket, right? What time of the year was it again?

Gerard reached out for the door knob, determined and angry, but also curious. What would be there on the other side? Of course Gerard knew. This was Gerard's flat, he knew what was outside of it, knew about the little park half a mile away from him, knew about the coffee shop and the cinema a few streets away. That wasn't what he was talking about.

According to Frank's reaction, there was more. Maybe something had occurred that he shouldn't know about. Thinking about it, he actually hadn't been outside in a long time. He also hadn't listened to the news or watched TV lately. There could be war outside and Gerard wouldn't know.

Okay, maybe he would know _that_ , he guessed he would hear the bombs and that shit. Also, how would Frank know? He also hadn't watched TV. Yet there was something Frank knew but didn't tell Gerard. Gerard hated it when Frank tried to lie to him. Of course he could see through the other man and usually he could even tell what he was trying to hide. Not so much today. Frank's behavior confused him and, honestly, it scared him a tiny bit as well.

The door was locked.

Gerard knit his brows. This door was never locked. You could always open it from inside. There wasn't even a lock for this side of the door because it was _always open_ , you only needed a key if you want to _enter_ Gerard's flat. Yet it was locked, no matter how many times he tried. Gerard even tried to kick it in after a few minutes. What the actual fuck was going on here?

“Frank!” he shouted. “Frank, what have you done to my door you son of a bitch?”

Of course he didn't get an answer. Gerard growled in frustration and banged his fist against the solid material the door was made of which – weirdly – wasn't wood, although Gerard was fairly sure it always _had been a wooden door_. Things were starting to get really weird, and it freaked him out so much. What the fuck was going on here? Had Gerard's door been exchanged, how the hell had he not noticed?

Suddenly his heart beat irregularly and fast, he started breathing heavily and his vision began to blur. A gasp escaped Gerard's mouth when he's knees gave in and he was on the floor on his hands and knees, sweating like a bitch and with such an intense headache that he believed his head would crack open.

“Shit,” he cursed, one hand pressing against his temple and his eyes shut tightly. The pain intensified until Gerard felt tears in his chest and a desperate sob left his mouth. The ground his hand and knees were on was hot, his body was cold. When he opened his eyes everything was black and he felt so weird that he was sure he was about to lose consciousness.

“Mr Way-” a voice from far away said but Gerard didn't care about the man it belonged to, right now Gerard didn't care about anybody, not even the numerous people he heard enter the room, not even Frank. The pain made him block everything out, the only thing left was the unspeakably huge desire to die so it would be over.

**

When Gerard woke up, something on his arm was itching. Horribly. His eyes shot open and the first thing he saw was _a fucking needle in the crook of his arm_. Instantly he started panting again, cold sweat on his forehead as he forced his eyes away from his arm and on the ceiling instead. He closed them briefly and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to digest what he'd just seen. A needle. Not only near him, no, in his fucking skin. In his body. _Inside him_. Somebody had pierced his skin with it, the idea made him want to throw up.

He needed to get it out of his arm. Now. Gerard gulped, then let his right hand touch his left arm, near the area. Slowly his fingers made their way towards the crook of his arm, and he flinched when he touched the needle. Holding his breath he pulled it out and shivered, his hand now over his mouth to stop himself from actually vomiting.

After he had gotten rid of the disastrous object he was calm enough to actually think.  
What had happened? Why was he here?

The door.

He got to his feet quickly enough to feel miserable again but ignored the furious throb in his head and headed towards his front door. Would it still be locked now? Maybe it just had been a weird dream.

“Gerard, where are you going?”

The man spun around, startled by the male voice behind him. It wasn't Frank's, he could tell. It seemed oddly familiar, yet he couldn't tell who had spoken to him. Until he saw his face.

“M-Mikey, what-”

His brother pulled him into a tight hug, tight enough to force him to shut up. He was so warm and well-known, and his smell made Gerard feel save and happy, and he smiled and hugged him back. Mikey's arms pressed Gerard even closer to his body and Gerard found himself chuckling. “Mikey, dude, I can't breathe-” he pressed.

“Sorry-” Mikey hurried to loosen his grip enough to not kill Gerard, but kept him close nonetheless. “Gerard, oh god, I- I've missed you.”

His voice was thick and he hid his face in the crook of Gerard's neck. Was he crying? This confused Gerard, made him feel uneasy, yet he decided to comfort his brother. Because, fuck, he'd missed him too. He hadn't thought about him in a long time, but now, as he was there, in front of him, he realized how happy he was to see him again.

“I've missed you too, Mikey,” he said, meaning every word. “Why haven't you visited me earlier? You didn't have to miss me, you know, I'm always here. You got my address.”

He nodded into Gerard's neck. “I do. I'm sorry, I tried. I just- couldn't...”

Why did he sound so fucking sorry about it? “It's okay, really, I'm glad you're here now!” he said with a smile, hoping this would make Mikey feel better. Yet he stayed pressed against him, and Gerard was fairly sure he could feel the tears against his skin. It made him sad. Mikey wasn't supposed to cry, he was supposed to be happy. His brother needed to be happy. “Mikey...”

“Don't mind- sorry, I'm just being a pussy.” Mikey sniffed and finally let go of Gerard, took one small step backwards to leave his brother some space. His eyes were red and wet and Gerard wanted to hug him again. “How have you been? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I guess...” The memories of the needle hurried back into Gerard's head and he shuddered. “I just woke up with a needle in my arm, can you believe that? It was horrible.”

“A needle is your biggest sorrow?” Mikey said and smiled crookedly.

“It was hell of a needle, Mikey! You should have seen it, somebody could have killed me with it-”

“I believe you, Gee,” Mikey said with a calming grin. “I believe you.”

“Good!” Hearing these three words calmed Gerard more than he could have fathomed. Now he remembered that his door had been locked. Yet Mikey was standing in front of him now – so it was open again for sure? 

“Gee, where are you going, don't-”

But Gerard had already run off towards his front door yet again. Of course Mikey didn't understand, how would he. Gerard didn't blame him, but he also couldn't wait and explain his actions, he was way too impatient for that. Unfortunately his body felt oddly tired and weak, so Mikey had caught up with him only a few seconds later and grabbed his wrist. “Gerard-”

“Mikey, please, I gotta-”

“Gee you look horrible!” Mikey said, brows knit in concern. “God, are you okay?”

Gerard nodded, feeling light-headed. “I'm, yeah, I'm good...”

“Please lay back down. Look, your bed is right here, please don't-”

The actual apprehensiveness in his brother's voice made Gerard agree. That and the suddenly worsening pain in his head. “Yeah, okay...”

Mikey guided him back towards his bed in which he clumsily climbed on. Then Mikey even blanketed him and Gerard smiled at him thankfully. His brother was such a kind soul. “Thanks for visiting me,” he said, watching as Mikey pulled a chair to sit next to him. “I've really missed you. A lot. Little dude.”

Mikey chuckled and reached out for Gerard's hand which he stroke lovingly, fresh tears in his eyes now. “I've missed you too. Really.”

“There's so much I need to tell you!” Laying in bed, Gerard's headache had minimized enough so he was able to think properly again. Now he felt like he really needed to tell Mikey about that door, about something being behind it he wasn't supposed to know, and Frank- Oh god, he hadn't told Mikey about Frank! How could he have missed something like this? “Frank!” he exclaimed. He could introduce him to Mikey now, finally, they'd been together for such a long time. Gerard's heart started beating happily, he was sure they would get along well.

Mikey's face suddenly looked sad and desolate. Gerard squeezed his hand briefly, soon he would be happy again. He just needed to meet Frankie. 

“Frankie?”, he shouted again. “Frankie, here's somebody I want you to meet!”

Then he recalled he had tied Frank to the chair. Of course he couldn't come. But why didn't he answer? Maybe he was asleep.

Gerard shrugged. “You'll meet him later.”

“So who is this... Frank? What is he to you? How have you met?” Mikey's face was filled with pain and Gerard couldn't help but feel insulted by this. His brother should be happy. He was trying really hard to make him feel better.

“We live together,” Gerard told him, grinning dumbly as he talked about Frank. “He's amazing. We've met a couple of months ago when he needed a ride, so I offered to take him to the next city. But then we ended up spending the following weeks together and then, he moved in with me, and I'm so happy about that. He looks like a model, seriously, and he can be funny and sweet and just- I don't know. Mikey, I think I love him.”

“You... love him,” Mikey repeated. His face still was sad. Gerard felt like he should be happy to hear his brother had found someone special. He decided to deal with that later and ignore it for now.

“Yeah,” he continued cheerfully. “I feel good around him. Satisfied. Sometimes he can be a little stroppy, but I can deal with that.”

“Oh. And how do you do that?”

Gerard smirked. “I fuck him.” He watched Mikey flinch at the word and grinned widely. “Oh, come on, don't act like that's weird. We're adults, we can talk about things like this, right?” Plus, it wasn't like Gerard simply fucked Frank. There was way more to it. But certainly Mikey wasn't interested in how much Gerard enjoyed seeing Frank bleed, also he might think this was a little weird and gross, and Gerard had missed his brother so much that he wasn't going to risk creeping him out. Mikey should be thankful that Gerard kept those things to himself.

“Yeah. Sure. You're right,” he muttered. “So. You're happy?”

Gerard nodded. “I am. But Mikey, there's something that concerns me.”

“What is it, Gee?” he asked, so sorrowful that Gerard couldn't help but feel touched by it.

“Earlier I tried leaving my flat. Frank wouldn't let me though, he said I wouldn't like it outside. And when I wanted to open the door it wouldn't budge- It was locked, Mikey! My front door was locked!”

Mikey hesitated. “Is this... something unusual?”

“Yeah! And then I got this mad headache all of the sudden, and then I must have lost consciousness because I woke up in my bed. Did you do that? Did you put me to bed? Did you stick that needle in my arm?” Despite he would hate him a little for the needle part, Gerard hoped Mikey would say yes. There was this feeling inside him again, creeping up on him, making him feel weak and uneasy and generally miserable. The feeling of not being in control, and not even being able to understand what was going on.

“No, Gee...” he heard his brother say and felt a heavy something drop in his stomach. “It wasn't me. But, uh, maybe it was Frank?”

Frank was tied to the chair and unresponsive. Surely this wasn't his work. “No, it wasn't Frank...” Gerard said, pondering the situation. It started to become too much again already, his head spinning and aching, and he hated his body for being this weak. Every time he started to think about it he felt nauseous, like something _inside_ him didn't want him to know the truth. This thought alone was cruel enough to make Gerard sweat again, and he clutched his brother's hand tighter. “Mikey...”

“Gee, what's wrong? What can I do?”

“I don't feel good...” Gerard heard himself whisper before his lids got too heavy to keep them open and he drifted into unconsciousness again.

**

When Gerard woke up again he was alone. He felt a painful sting in his heart acknowledging Mikey had left without saying goodbye, but he was ready to forgive him if he'd stop by again some time soon. His head felt heavy and he still felt tired and exhausted although he just woke up from what felt like a very long sleep. He slept really well lately.

Gerard missed Frank. He wanted to go into the living room and tie him off the chair, talk to him, maybe get him to suck his dick, but felt too weak to stand up. He even felt too weak to shout his name. He even felt too weak to pull out the needle that was again in his fucking arm and which he noticed just now. His breath hitched and then his surroundings became dark again, and the last thing he thought was whether he actually was losing consciousness because of the needle, or if he was just too tired to stay awake a second longer.

**

He felt better when he woke up again. Good. Almost perfect.

This time there was no needle in his arm which made him feel even better. God, Gerard fucking hated needles. He got out of bed and stretched his arms and legs before standing up, careful not too overdo things and end up passing out again.

What was going on anyway? He felt like he asked this exact question a lot recently, and he had not found a single answer yet. The feeling of being trapped and controlled overcame him yet again, but he felt way too relaxed to worry right now and managed to push it aside.

In the living room he found Frank on his chair. Sleeping. He looked oddly peaceful and calming like this, despite the bonds and the uncomfortable position he was in with his head resting on his shoulder.

“Frank.” Gerard's voice sounded raucous and thin so he cleared his throat. “Frank, guess what.”

The other man's eyes snapped open and he looked right into Gerard's. “W-what?”

“My brother was here earlier!” Gerard announced happily. “My brother Mikey!”

“That's nice,” Frank answered sleepily. “Why didn't you introduce me to him?”

“I tried to,” Gerard said defiantly. “I called you but you weren't answering.”

“Oh.” Frank made. Again Gerard felt like he wasn't as happy as he was supposed to be. Just like Mikey when Gerard had told him about Frank, Frank stayed rather neutral. Why couldn't anyone be happy for him? Suddenly Gerard's good mood was gone and he was really stressed, raging almost.

Then he remembered the incident with the door. Finally he felt strong enough to try opening it again. With hurried steps he went towards it, ignoring Frank's “Gee, don't!”, and pulled the knob again. It still was closed. Gerard groaned in disappointment and anger.

“I told you to-”

“Yeah, and how exactly do _you_ know? Is that why you didn't want me to go outside, because you knew the door would be locked?” Gerard spat at Frank, gaining satisfaction from the desperation he could see in Frank's eyes now. “Did you also know it isn't even the same door anymore? That's right I noticed that, I'm not fucking stupid! Tell me who it was, Frank. Was it you? Are you trying to drive me crazy? Do you want me to think I'm losing my fucking mind?”

“Gerard, no- I, I don't want that. I don't know who did it-”

“Then how did you know the door would be locked?” Gerard was raging by now. Did Frank think he was a fucking fool? Suddenly he didn't feel that much affection towards the other man anymore, he felt betrayal and hatred, and he wanted to make him bleed, but in a bad way.

“I didn't! I just didn't want you to leave!”

“Don't take me for an idiot, Frank,” Gerard warned. “What kind of game are you trying to play with me here?”

“Gerard,” Frank begged. “Please, I swear- I didn't know. I swear. Please don't think that. You would have noticed. You're smart. You wouldn't have trusted me for all this time if I would-”

“Fuck you.” Gerard smacked Frank across the face, no matter if he was lying or not, he just needed to release his anger. “This is fucked. Shit.”

Frank hissed at the pain but didn't speak. He kept his head down, breathing heavily, waiting what Gerard would do next.

For the sake of keeping Frank pretty, Gerard turned around and started to hit the wall instead. He was so angry, so desperate, confused and angry. His perfect little world seemed to fall apart, and he wasn't ready to let go.

He turned around, leaned against the solid wall, the only thing that seemed to be solid in his life right now, and slid onto the ground slowly. Tears were in his eyes at an instant, and he didn't even bother holding them back. He felt so weird. Was he even Gerard anymore? Maybe someone had not only exchanged his door but also his personality? His brain?

...his Frank?

Was this Frank still the Frank he met by that street in the middle of the night all those weeks ago? What if he had been replaced as well? Gerard needed to know. Right now.

“Frank,” he said, making the younger man look up immediately, fear in his eyes. “I need to ask you something, okay? I need to make sure you are you.”

He looked confused but nodded. Gerard continued with his heart racing and his palms sweating, what if Frank turned out to be fraud? And if so, what had happened to the real Frank? “What kind of drug did I give you in my car that made you fall asleep? You know, in that water I offered you.”

Frank's facial expression soothed at that. “I though it would be a hard question and you would think I lied to you... But that's easy, Gee. Roofies.”

Gerard's heart skipped a beat. Fuck. This was bad. This was horrible, oh shit.

It was correct. Roofies, simple as that. The thing was that the _real_ Frank would not be able to know. He had never told him, they hadn't even talked about it. Whoever that on the chair was, it wasn't Frank Iero.

 _Frank_ seemed to notice something was wrong and he knit his brows in concern, just like Mikey had done it earlier. “What's wrong Gee? What did I say?”

“You- fuck you. You're not Frank. Who the fuck are you?!”

“What? I'm Frank! Frank Iero! Gee, come on, what the fuck? Are you joking?” Not only did he look confused or shocked, but also amused by Gerard's statement.

Gerard couldn't look at him anymore. He pulled his knees towards his chest and stuck his head between them, his eyes shut tightly. “You're a liar,” he breathed. “You're not Frank.”

“I am! Who else would I be?”

Who else would know? Who else would know what Gerard had put into that bottle a few days before he had met Frank? He had been alone. The roofies weren't supposed to be for anyone special, Gerard had hoped to drive a hot guy home after going clubbing or something – not that Gerard himself would actually go in a disco, he'd wait in his car in front of the building on the look-out for attractive males – and that the drug would help him to get a nice one-night-stand. Never had he expected things to turn out like this.

Who would know about the roofies in the bottle? Nobody. There wasn't a chance anybody would. Gerard had been alone and he hadn't told anyone about it.

Only he knew. Only he could have told Frank, but he hadn't. Assuming he really was the only one knowing about the roofies left only one possibility. The person sat there in front of him was Gerard himself.

He screamed. Loud and long, screaming to let them out, these horrible thoughts which could not be true, which must be all wrong and stupid, but for the first time in months something felt logical again.

If Frank was Gerard and Gerard was Gerard, there either were two Gerards or one Gerard wasn't real. Was Gerard real? Was he actually thinking right now? According to the screams he was emitting at the moment he guessed he was real.

So Frank wasn't real. He ignored the sudden headache and just kept thinking about it, he was so close to knowing what had been wrong for all those weeks, he _knew_ , he had known it all along. He didn't want it to be true. But it was. Or wasn't it? 

Suddenly the headache overwhelmed him yet again and he choked on his own scream, then gasped for air as he struggled to stay conscious. He looked up, searching for help. Even if it meant he would accept help from Frank who might not be real. When his eyes had managed to focus enough for Gerard to actually see shit, he noticed that not only the chair had vanished, but there also was no trace of the man Gerard had believed to be Frank. He wasn't even in his living room anymore. The walls were white, the suddenly not in his bedroom anymore bed was white, the ceiling and the floor he was sitting on were white. His vision went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so in this chapter Gerard was able to overpower the defensive walls of his brain. He's come to the conclusion that Frank is not real and found himself in a hospital room. Surely that means everything will get better from now on, right? :)


	5. August 2008

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't do any proofreading yet! Sorry, I'm really exhausted at the moment and don't have much time. I'll update it as soon as possible though.

He walked down an empty corridor. It was dark and quiet apart from the echoing sound of his hasty footsteps and rattling breath. He knew he was not alone, though. He was looking for someone. He knew that someone was somewhere here, probably not even far away, most likely behind the door at the end of the corridor. 

But the corridor was long, long and dark, dark and eerie. Although he practically ran towards the end of it, he didn't seem to come any closer. He started feeling exhausted from running so much.

After keeping fighting a few more minutes, he came to a halt, panting. Looking behind told him the exit was right there, barely 50 feet away from him. He sighed, how was that possible? He had been running for hours. Giving up would be easy. So easy to just turn around and leave, go back to where he was coming from, surrender. But he didn't want that. He hadn't come here to give up. No, it was his goal to reach the door that seemed so far away. He needed to reach it. He wouldn't stop before he was there. 

With new confidence he started moving again, even faster than before. He ignored the pain in his lungs he felt and damned himself for smoking so much. Due to a heavy cough he had to stop a few minutes later, a hand resting against the wall for support. He now noticed the wall was wet. 

Confused he turned his head to look at it. Suddenly it wasn't fully dark anymore, and even bright enough for him to make out the color the wall was painted it. It was red, a dark, saturated red. Every wall was this hue of red, and so were the floor and the ceiling. He had a dark guess that it wasn't just paint, but blood.

For testing purposes he brought his hand that had touched the wall to his mouth and licked across the palm. Yes, that was blood. The familiar taste filled his mouth, delighting him, arousing him. It made him feel awake and strong. He needed more. 

He pressed his body against the wall and licked across it wildly, gross slurp noises and swallowing sounds now felt the empty corridor. He grinned thinking about how absurd this had to look like for anybody walking by, they might even think he was a vampire or some kind of similar creature. Soon the delicious flavor emptied his mind from all these thoughts though as the full indulgence took over. He might be addicted to the taste. He might have an even bigger to blood than to cigarettes. 

“G-Gerard?”

The sound of his name made him flinch and his head spun around, seeking for the source of it. Now the corridor was well-lit and way smaller. It was weird. The corridor looked completely different now, with white, clean walls that left Gerard to look rather stupid licking them. His clothes felt soaked and he noticed that they were soaked in blood. His knees gave in and he realized it wasn't anyone's blood, it was his own. There was a big wound in his chest from which the blood poured out onto the rest of his body, fast and hot. His vision got blurry, there were countless black little dots everywhere and he seemed to be floating, high in the sky, when in reality his body hit the ground.

“Gerard.” The voice was way nearer now, very close to him, right next to his ear. He opened his eyes, not having noticed he'd closed them before. A pretty face was in front of his, leaning over him. Of course he knew whose face this was. It belonged to the man he had been looking for, the man who had been behind the door Gerard tried to run to. 

“Frank,” he murmured, making the man smile.

“You recognize me!” he said brightly. He didn't seem to see the hole in the body underneath him, didn't seem to see the blood that now colored the floor. “I have something for you... thought you'd want it back, now that I'm dead.”

He chuckled at this, ignoring the increased pain in his chest. “Dead? You're not dead, Frankie. You're talking to me.”

“Oh I am, Gerard. But I don't want to leave you without a last gift.”

“And what would that be?” He asked. What Frank said didn't make sense. If he was dead, he couldn't talk to him because _he_ was alive, right?

“It's your heart!” Frank stated as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. “Have you not noticed it's missing?”

Gerard huffed scornfully. “My heart? When did I give my heart to you, Frank?”

“When I died, idiot.” Frank shook his head, grinning. “You wanted me to take it, don't you remember? You wanted me to have it so you could die too!”

“I- I didn't.” That was nonsense. Nonsense that would explain the hole in his chest though...

“Of course you did! You wanted to be dead too. But now, since you're returning to the living, I assumed you would like it back.”

“No.” Gerard shook his head strongly enough to make him feel even more fuzzy. “No Frank, you keep it. I don't want it, I don't want to go back-”

“Don't be stupid. It's time to let go.”

“Fuck you, no. It's fine the way it is, just-”

“Gerard.” Suddenly there was another man next to Frank, looking down at Gerard with tears in his eyes. “Come back to me. Come back home.” 

“Mikey...” 

His brother was bleeding as well, but the wound in his chest wasn't as deep as Gerard's. Frank now offered Mikey Gerard's heart. “Maybe you want to keep it until he realizes he needs it?”

Mikey nodded and accepted it gratefully. Frank smiled and waved Gerard goodbye with a bloody hand, then he – and Gerard couldn't believe what he saw – began to fade like vapor. “No, Frank, wait-” Gerard cried out. He wasn't ready to let go. He wasn't prepared for this, what the hell. 

“Frank-” he shouted, but the short man was gone. “Frank! Frank, please, Frank!” 

“He's gone, Gee,” Mikey said sadly. “You need to let go.”

“I can't. Frank! Frankie, no, Frankie...” He began to sob loudly, not giving a shit about who would see or hear him. He felt Mikey's soothing hand on his shoulder but it didn't give him much comfort at the moment. He closed his eyes and screamed, his voice hoarse and broken, shrill and piercing, annoying even in his own ears. 

“Shh, Gee, please...” he heard his brother whisper. “I'm here, everything is fine, I'm here.”

When Gerard opened his eyes, his surroundings had changed completely yet again. The room was still white, but he was in a bed, blinded by the dazzling light and with his hands clutching his brothers. “M-Mikey, you-”

“It's okay, Gee.” He sounded tired, exhausted and stressed himself but did his best to calm his brother down. “It was just a dream. You're fine. It's okay.”

“I- I...” Gerard stuttered, then burst into tears yet again. Mikey sighed sympathetically and moved closer so Gerard could hug him which he did. He swung his arms around his little brothers neck and sobbed against his chest whilst being hold at an awkward angle, he didn't care how it looked or what people would think of them but just enjoyed the feeling of his brothers hands caressing his back and his warmth. “I'm- I'm so sorry-” he pressed and Mikey just hummed, knowing that apology wasn't meant for him. 

Gerard vaguely acknowledged a door being opened and a worried female voice. “Mr Way, is everything...”

“It's okay,” Mikey whispered back, not letting go of Gerard. “I got it. Just a dream.”

“Okay.” The door was closed again and the two brothers were left alone. 

Gerard forced himself to be strong and stopped crying after a few more minutes. He was curious. There were questions in his head, so many mysteries, so many inconsistencies that didn't make sense at all, and the longer he was awake, the more his head hurt from all the worries. 

“M-Mikey...” he pulled away slowly and let his upper body fall back onto the bed. “I'm in a hospital, right-?”

He didn't want to know. Actually, he knew what had happened. The truth was deep inside him, but he was scared. He didn't want it to be true. He wanted it to be another dream. So he decided to ask the questions in his head instead of finding answers for himself. The truth was going to be horrible, he was aware that he couldn't carry it on his own, so he needed somebody. 

Gerard's brother nodded and Gerard felt sick. “A-and Frank... Frank is- Frank's-”

“Gee, please don't- I mean, it's in the past. You don't need to worry about it, not now, not already. It's okay-”

“No, I need to know what happened. I, I can't- He's _dead_ , right?” He shuddered and his heart felt heavy. His heart that was back in his chest and not in Frank's or Mikey's hands. His heart that, if all this was true, needed to stop beating soon.

“He-” Mikey started, but swallowed and found himself unable to talk about the subject. “I can't tell you.. Please, can we talk about this tomorrow. With a doctor. I just want you to be good, Gerard. I just want you to be alright.”

Gerard shivered. That basically was a yes. He just didn't want him to panic without an expert around. Of course Gerard understood that.

But for the sake of not worrying his brother any further, he nodded. “Okay.”  
Frank was dead. His sweet Frankie, so cute, so perfect. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't- why had Gerard not protected him? Whoever had killed Frank needed to die as well, and Gerard had this odd feeling that he knew the responsible person very well.

Or actually, he didn't. Gerard suspected himself to be the murderer, but he didn't know himself anymore. He couldn't recall killing Frank. Until yesterday everything between them had been fine, everything was good. Had he killed him after getting angry at Frank because he didn't want him to take a walk? Or because the door was locked? Or had he killed him way earlier? He didn't remember. What if Frank had been dead all along? And why the fuck would he kill him in the first place? 

It didn't make sense. Maybe it had been somebody else after all. He just couldn't imagine _why_ anybody would kill someone as pure and good as Frank Iero. 

He closed his eyes as his temples started to throb and his whole body ached. He was exhausted. Although he had a vague idea of what had happened, of what he had done, nothing was clear yet. The memories probably were inside him somewhere, hidden underneath stacks and piles of lies and wishfulness. But maybe it was okay like this, for now at least. The uncertainty drove him mad, but knowing the truth might be way worse. 

“Why are you here?” he asked Mikey. “It's- It's in the middle of the night, right?”

Mikey nodded. “It's 4 in the morning. I asked them if I could stay with you overnight. I was afraid you would wake up and the nurses wouldn't be there fast enough, I wanted you to feel save.”

“Thank you Mikey...” Gerard looked at him and took his hand again. “I- yes, you were right. I would feel way worse if you wouldn't be here, you know.”

His brother just smiled at him briefly and Gerard could see how drained he was. “Hey- did you even sleep at all? You look-”

“Shh,” Mikey interrupted. “Don't you dare worry about me. I'm good. I'm perfectly fine.”

“O-Okay then,” Gerard said with his eyebrows knit in sorrow. He felt his eyelids get heavy again. “Do you... mind if I sleep?”

Mikey shook his head, looking disapproving. “Do I mind if you go to sleep. Of course not, Gee, I want you to get better.” 

Gerard smiled briefly, then fell into a dreamless and almost peaceful sleep with the knowledge his brother was watching over him.

**

“There are two ways to approve this.” Dr Philipps, despite the tangible change of mood in room after the news of Gerard's awakening had been told, stayed factual. Mikey looked from his mother to his father, both Donna and Donald looked relieved. He was glad they had been able to take a flight this soon to visit him and Gerard, they both were really excited. Donna actually smiled, something Mikey had not seen a very long time on her face.

Dr Philipps, of course, was happy for his patient and his family, but he didn't have time to focus on being happy. No, now the actual work started. Therapies, important decisions about Gerard's future, slowly bring Gerard back into the normal life. He had been “lost” for 11 months, after all. And everything they did now, every decision that was made would have big consequences on Gerard's further life. 

Mikey knew all that. He'd had a talk with Dr Philipps before, and it sounded awfully tragic and scientific, Mikey didn't care about the details, he just wanted his brother to be happy again.  
He figured Dr Philipps didn't like him very much. Mikey kept being impatient and unhappy with the way Gerard was treated, disturbing the doctor's purposes with protests and private wishes. Every now and then Dr Philipps would allow Mikey to have his way when there wasn't a medical issue blocking the intention, for example when Gerard had his panic attack almost one week ago after acknowledging he couldn't escape the hospital room. Mikey had been so happy when Gerard talked to him, finally responded to him, finally hugged him. And he'd been wanting to do that the whole time, go to Gerard, talk to him, see whether he acknowledges him or not, but Dr Philipps wouldn't let him. That was one of the main reasons he disliked the doctor, he would always have an excuse why Mikey couldn't talk to his brother.

Also, he felt like Gerard was nothing but a test object to him. That stupid machine recording his dreams, all those medications, the cameras in his room, the fact that nobody had intervened when he scratched and hurt himself. Because they had _”wanted to see how far he would take it”_ , but _“of course somebody would stop him before he could seriously harm himself”_. Oh sure, all those wounds he'd caused himself with his nails and teeth were okay, of course. 

But he was grateful nonetheless, of course. Mikey, despite all the distrust, appreciated whatever they had done to Gerard because now he was on the best way of getting better. And that was what he'd been longing for the past year. 

“The first way,” Dr Philipps continued. “Would be to confront Gerard with his actions. Tell him what happened. Break him down and then build him up again slowly. It would be hard for him, of course, but he would have got things straightened out with himself. His nightmares would be temporary only and probably go by when enough time has passed.  
“The other possibility would be to neglect it. He knows Frank Iero has died, but he doesn't know who it did, right? That's what he told you?”

Mikey nodded briefly, and the doctor continued. 

“Like this he will hate somebody else, somebody who doesn't exist. Self-hatred might lead to depressions, drug-addictions, suicide,... If we told him it wasn't his fault Frank Iero is dead, we might be able to avoid that. Or minimize it. There's a chance of relapsing though, he might have a dream that reminds him, a flashback, something like that. And if he found out he's been lied to, he might lose trust in all of us.  
“We need to find out how aware he is of his mental illness, to which extent he's ready to accept the help we're willing to give. A therapist would be necessary, no matter which way you choose. And Gerard will need lots of support from you, too. Most people are very unstable after going through things like this, and according to the dreams and nightmares he has on a regular basis, I'm assuming it will be especially hard for Gerard.  
“And then, despite all that, there's also the treatment to overcome his mental illness. That's a whole different chapter, and it's probably going to take a long time, considering the force of his imagination. We will take care of that, of course, that's nothing you have to worry about. For now I would need a decision. What are we going to tell your son?”

Donald looked overrun and startled by all this information. “You- you want us to decide that _now_?”

“The earlier we start the better. Your son grows impatient as well, he wants to know what all his dreams mean.”

He looked expectantly from Donald to Donna to Mikey whose faces all were rather shocked and clueless, and now Donna looked like she might faint.

**

The sun shone bright and hot from the sky, so hot that Gerard felt like he might get a sunburn even though he was sitting on the windowsill behind what was probably break-proof glass so he couldn't smash it and jump out or whatever. It was summer, he assumed. July or August, maybe early September. He liked looking outside, watching the town from up here like some lord in his mansion, the inhabitants being his subjects. Except that he was a patient of a mental hospital and all those other people were in the ascendancy over Gerard because they were free, free and healthy.

He sometimes pondered whether they would allow him to go outside to enjoy the sun, or if they would force him to stay in the hospital. He had figured out it wasn't a regular hospital but more like a sanatorium or something. The other patients he saw in the cafeteria this morning looked like they had some serious problems, some burst into laughter although nobody had said anything, some kept scratching their arms like they had some serious skin irritation, _some even talked to themselves_. Gerard found it rather odd that he was here with these crazy people, he might be damaged because of Frank's death, but surely he wasn't _this_ sick. That was the reason he was here right? Because he couldn't cope with Frank's death? That had to be it, the other thing Gerard could come up with was his blood kink but they didn't know about the thing he had going on for blood , and even if they would, surely that was legitimate as long as the partner agreed and not a reason to get transferred to a sanatorium. 

Even if they would let Gerard outside, he wouldn't want to. He preferred being in his relatively cool room and observe the town. The room wasn't so bad, actually. It was clean, silent, neutral. He didn't feel constrained by it.

It were his thoughts that made him feel more like a prisoner than a patient. The uncertainty. The memories of Frank. The guilt creeping up on him rather often without being able to tell were it came from. 

Gerard had come to the conclusion he hadn't killed Frank. He couldn't have. He loved him, that's what he thought at least. He'd never felt as happy before, Frank had made him the most joyful man in the world. No, surely it wasn't Gerard who had ended his life.

Maybe he felt guilty because he hadn't been able to prevent it. The fact that Frank was dead was out of question, Mikey's reaction had proven that. The specifically awful nightmare he had had the other night with the long corridor and Frank had confirmed that as well. And Gerard had found scratch wounds on his neck, arms, legs and torso, maybe there had been a fight? And while Gerard had been able to get out of it and survived, Frank was killed? But why couldn't he recall that for fuck sake? 

It were dreams like this that kept Gerard on the edge, and nervous and scared. These dreams. Like somewhere deep inside him he knew what had happened, but something inside him hid it, did everything so he wouldn't be able to remember. Was that why he was here in this place for sick people, was he schizophrenic? But surely schizophrenic people weren't able to diagnose themselves, right? So Gerard discarded that idea pretty quickly again, it was nonsense. Everything was nonsense, no matter how hard he tried to put sense into it.

The talk with a doctor that Mikey had promised him the aforementioned night had not taken place yet. Gerard assumed he was three days in here now, maybe four, he was bad at keeping track. Every day was exactly like the last one. Some nurse woke him up at 7 – why the fuck at 7, couldn't he get some rest as a patient? - then they went to the cafeteria together and she accompanied him while he had breakfast. Water and cereal, mostly. Water. He wasn't allowed to have coffee. What the fuck was this place? One of the nurses had assured him that would change soon, a couple of weeks from now when he would have immersed himself in his new surroundings he could have coffee and he would be able to go to the meals alone. It was just the beginning that was a little harsh. Gerard wasn't planning to stay in this place for _a couple of weeks_ though, he was pretty sure he could get better on his own, at home, with a lot of cigarettes, alcohol (and fucking coffee), maybe some other drugs too, but whatever.

After breakfast Gerard usually sat in his room drawing or reading. They had given him a sketch book and a few comics, at the request of Mikey, Gerard assumed. He didn't use the sketchbook for drawing only though, but for writing the stuff in his head down. Not like a diary, more like poems maybe? Or songs? 

It helped him to concentrate and to clear his mind. He would never show it to anyone, probably not even Mikey. It was private and he made sure to hide it well so none of the nurses or doctors would see it – they'd probably take it away to analyze his mental stability or something. He might have shown Frank. But Frank couldn't read it anymore.

Gerard was sick of the doctors and nurses. The only thing he liked about this place was the silence, and the doctors and nurses kept interrupting it. Mostly they just talked to him, asked him how he was feeling, what was on his mind, if he needed anything. Gerard tried to stay polite and friendly so they would go away again quickly. They would make him take some pills and two days ago a nurse even forced a syringe in his arm, but it stayed there three seconds only before Gerard had managed to kick her off him and hid underneath his bed – yes, like a little kid and he knew it was ridiculous, but that woman had been armed with a needle, and Gerard definitely wasn't having that. Nobody had tried to syringe him after that incident which confused Gerard, he hadn't expected to win this war that easily, but he wasn't going to complain.

The only person who was allowed to interrupt the silence was Mikey. He usually visited him midway through the morning and usually sat with him during lunch. Gerard was grateful for that, he didn't really want another patient to sit with him. If he'd spent too much time with one of them he might get actually crazy too. 

Gerard asked Mikey about what had happened to Frank every time he saw him, but he still hadn't been given an answer. Turns out Mikey was really good at avoiding questions. That's why Gerard was longingly waiting for the talk with him and the doctor, he needed the fucking answers or his head would explode. 

Mikey and Gerard usually spent the afternoon in Gerard's room, talking or reading together. Gerard had found out he had lost – or quit – his job, and he couldn't shake off the feeling that this was his fault. He also noticed Mikey had changed his attitude towards religion and now spoke about God multiple times a day, how much he had helped him and that he, Gerard, should start praying too. Maybe he would to that. As soon as there was space for something like this in his head, right now it was just a mess and he really didn't need another confusing subject up there.

Mikey wasn't allowed to stay in Gerard's room at night anymore which Gerard pitied. The cause for this was that Gerard needed to be alone to find his inner piece and sleep better at night, he needed to know what it was like to be alone, get strong again, Mikey would distract him. Which was absolute bullshit, if they wanted him to become strong and independent again they wouldn't need to have a nurse hovering over him every morning and evening whenever Mikey would leave. Not that Gerard specifically disliked the nurses, they were alright, but it just didn't make sense. Also, he had slept a lot better knowing Mikey was there with him, that there was somebody to protect him if it was necessary. 

This afternoon Gerard was alone though. Mikey had left after lunch, talking about how he and a doctor had an appointment and he would join Gerard later again. Gerard was okay with that, it probably meant that he was going to get his answers soon. 

Mikey had left a few hours ago. Gerard hadn't expected the whole thing to take this long, and he grew more and more impatient. Did it really take _this_ long to discuss how to tell Gerard something he already knew? Frank might be dead, but Gerard hoped he still would be able to attend his funeral. And if the doctor hurried just a little more, maybe it would be possible? Gerard assumed Frank had died just recently. It was impossible that he was dead a longer time and he had just continued to live normally, obviously he'd had his breakdown just a few days ago. 

_His breakdown_. It scared Gerard he had actually come this close to Frank. Close enough for him to completely lose it and end up in a sanatorium. But he'd said it himself, hadn't he? He'd fallen in love with Frank Iero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An important decision needs to be made. Tell Gerard he killed Frank and that he's basically crazy, or deny it ever happened? Personally I wouldn't know what to pick if he was my brother or son, so I'm curious about what Mikey and Mr and Mrs Way are going to do. Feel free to have a guess in the comments ^-^
> 
> It'll probably take me a while to write the next chapter because I am flying to Los Angeles tomorrow (oh god), and I'm gonna stay there for one month. I'm doing a language course and we're busy almost every day, so yeah I don't know how much time I'll have to write a chapter. I'll try though! :)


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